A Month Without Rain
by Gavrilo-Princip
Summary: March 2002: almost 3,000 Coalition troops, comprised of US military and Afghan militia, engaged approximately 1,000 deeply entrenched Al-Qaeda and Taliban fighters in an attempt to take control of the Shah-i-Kot Valley. AU


Note: This idea came into my head at work. Obviously AU. Truth be told, I was wary writing this. I don't mean to trivialize what's happening over there by throwing fictional characters into a very real, very deadly situation, but in the end, I couldn't find anything harmful about publishing this one. Again, this is not meant to offend or trivialize. Written quickly, probably has mistakes. Oops. This might continue. I have a nasty habit of not continuing things. Oops again! Took liberties with the reality of SF for this story in that no female has ever successfully made it into Special Forces. Not for sexist reasons, it's just too physically demanding.

Terms:

AFO - Advanced Force Operations

CAS - Close Air Support

danger-close - basically exactly what it sounds like: when using artillery or air support, this is added to the call to inform the responding units that the targets are within close range of the friendlies.

ETAC - Enlisted Terminal Attack Controller - air force personnel assigned to various special forces units. In charge of calling of coordinating air support.

RTB - return to base

Tier Two - Three tiers of military assets. One is the highest, most elite units the military has to offer: DEVGRU and Delta, for example. Tier Two examples are SF and rangers.

* * *

"Overlord, this is Firefly One requesting close air support, priority one, at our coordinates, danger-close . We are currently engaged with the enemy, fifty plus strength. Require immediate assistance, over!" Wash yelled into his handset as rounds impacted the brick wall of the abandoned, half-collapsed house in front of him.

"Solid copy, Firefly. Wait one," the radio crackled and was silent. Staff Sergent Reynolds peered around his cover at the radioman positioned in front of his own barely adequate cover.

"Yeah, no problem," he grinned sardonically at Wash, "We're having a _grand _time out here, ain't we, Zoe?"

"Yeah, sir. _Grand_. Tell him we can wait another fifteen if he needs us to," Mal's corporal responded as she ejected an empty magazine, knocked a fresh one against her left knee pad to clear any dust, and recharged her weapon. When she was through, she came out of cover where she crouched five feet away from Mal and peered through her sight momentarily before returning fire at the Al-Qaeda fighters moving down the shallow valley towards them. Mal's palms were swearing inside his gloves. His small Special Forces squad had been involved in AFO since the beginning of Anaconda nearly a week and a half ago and they'd seen some fierce fighting, but they were never cut off from the support of nearby units like this before. It seemed like at least half of his decisions usually ended up putting them in bad situations, but this was the worst so far: an enemy with superior numbers had the higher ground and the thus the tactically superior position. Luckily, his team's superior training and discipline should even things up. Also air support. He was a big believer in air support.

"I ain't sure what you idiots is talkin' about, but I ain't having all too much of a grand time," Specialist Cobb hollered, ducking behind the brick next to Wash to drop out his M249's empty box magazine. He crouched even lower as enemy fire turned the brick near his head to dust. Jayne swore and fed a fresh two hundred round belt into the chamber before closing and charging the weapon.

"I'm having fun," Wash said, sarcastically. Jayne barked out a laugh, pulled his black ball cap around backwards and after taking two deep breaths rose up over the berm provided by the crumbling structure and starting firing deafening bursts from his 249.

"Yeah, well, we'll see how much fun we're having when it gets dark in twenty minutes and there's no goddamn CAS or evac," Mal shouted as he sighted down his rifle and fired two rounds at an insurgent moving along a ridge line. He smirked grimly, briefly, when he saw the figure drop down into the dirt. To his left, he heard Wash's radio crackle.

"Firefly, this is Overlord. CAS is on it's way to your position, ten minutes out. Apache gunship, call sign 'Serenity', will contact you shortly. Confirm transmission, over."

"Overlord, we copy your transmission, over."

"About goddamn time, sir," Zoe yelled over the combined gunfire of their unit. Mal was about to agree when he saw a figure rise up fifty yards away halfway down the ridge above them and shoulder a rocket propelled grenade. The figure turned slightly and aimed towards the disintegrating brick wall where Jayne and their Air Force ETAC took cover. He quickly brought his rifle around to bear and squeezed the trigger. Mal was rewarded with the sound of the firing pin impacting the primer, but the round didn't discharge. Failure to fire.

"Fuck! Jayne, RPG left side ridge!" he screamed. Jayne stopped firing and turned around to face him, eyes wide, before grabbing the drag handle on Wash's vest in one huge gloved fist and lifting him up.

"Move it, little man," he growled and they both half-stumbled, half ran towards Mal's position as, above them on the ridge, they heard a heavy report as the insurgent fired his weapon and the Soviet-made projectile streaked towards them. They dove behind Mal's cover just as the rocket impacted, obliterating the wall they been crouching behind just moments before and throwing dust and debris into the faces of the Special Forces unit. Mal dove to the ground, feeling his sunglasses slip from where they were perched above his head. He landed in a heap next to Jayne and Wash and for a moment, the small mountain village and surrounding hillside it was nestled in was completely silent. Mal heard nothing but the sound of his own breathing briefly, then came the hillside chatter of Kalashnikov fire as the insurgents resumed firing on the American position. Beside him, he heard Jayne swear and turned to look. Jayne was removing the optics from the top of his weapon.

"Fucking Hajjis broke my goddamn reflex sight," he swore again and tucked the now useless weapon sight into his dump pouch. Mal was in disbelief: high explosives were just detonated in close proximity to their very fleshy bodies and Jayne was worried about his accessories? As if sensing his thoughts, Jayne looked at him. Mal held his eyes for a moment.

"_Boo hoo_, Jayne! We have more pressing matters to attend to, don't you think? Besides, can't you shoot without it?"

"Hey, I paid for that out of my own pocket! And a-course I can, Mal. Hell, it only gave me a little bitty edge anyways," Jayne responded, wounded at the perceived slight against his marksmanship. As if to prove his point, he rose up and fired a long burst into the hills around them, triggering a rise in the volume of enemy fire. At that moment, the radio let loose a burst of static and a female voice came through Wash's handset.

"Firefly One, this is Serenity. On your position in sixty seconds, requesting you mark targets with smoke, over." Wash instantly recognized the voice and broke radio discipline as Zoe moved in behind their cover with them.

"Kaylee, that you? Oh, are we happy to hear your voice!" he exclaimed. Mal cleared his throat and shot him a withering look. Wash had the good graces to put his serious face back on and resume transmitting.

"Uh, Serenity, this is Firefly. Wilco on smoke. Targets will be to the northeast and northwest of red smoke. Confirm, over," Wash rattled off as Mal and Zoe pulled the pins on the smoke grenades and hurled them out in front of them. The canisters made two muted pops and began discharging their thick, red smoke. The wind in the valley took the smoke eastward as the entire unit heard the unmistakable sound of rotors slicing the air approaching quickly from the south.

"Solid copy, Firefly."

"You are cleared hot, Serenity. Bring the noise, over."

As soon as Serenity cleared the hillside in a swirl of dust five hundred meters to the south, the chain gun mounted below the gunner's seat opened fire and 30mm rounds whistled over their heads. The attack helicopter closed the distance in seconds and came to a hover a hundred and fifty feet above the besieged unit. Mal looked overhead at the underside of the Apache and silent thanked the pilot, Kaylee, for showing up when she did. The gun continued to drive death into the insurgents around them for a few more seconds before a sound resembling a great and continuous rush of air obscured the underside of Serenity in thick white rocket exhaust. Serenity rotated slowly from right to left, emptying her entire payload of air-to-ground rockets. Jayne's long, loud, joyous cross-between-a-scream-and-a-cheer was drowned out by the explosions of the rockets as the impacted their targets. To Mal, it sounded like being in the midst of the grand finale of a Fourth of July fireworks display. After a while, the firing stopped and the air, though filled with smoke and dust, was silent except for the beating of the rotors above them.

"Firefly, I think you're alright now. I'm seeing no targets and evac is right behind me. We are RTB at this time. We'll see you back at base. Serenity out."

"Copy, Serenity. Thanks for the help. Out," Wash said, eyes closed and relief evident in his voice. Tentatively, they all stood up and stretched their legs and checked their weapons and looked around them at the blackened earth formerly brimming with Al-Qaeda fighters. Carried on the wind, they heard a few pained moans of those unfortunate enough to not be killed instantly. Mal ignored them and scanned the ground for his missing sunglasses.

"Anyone seen my Oakleys?" he asked, causing his fellow Tier Two operators to burst out laughing. Mal grumbled half-heartedly and turned, hiding his smile, and in doing so spotted his sunglasses. He stooped and picked them out of the dirt.

"Firefly One, this is Overlord actual, requesting a sitrep."

Wash wiped his hands on his uniform pants as his laughter died down. He really wished he could wear jeans and t-shirts like the rest of them and made a mental note to see if he could get approval once they returned to base. He cleared his throat.

"Enemy force completely neutralized, sir. Awaiting evac, none wounded," Wash ended the transmission and waited for a reply. They all looked back and forth between one another, small smiles of disbelief combined with relief spreading across their faces.

"Copy that, Firefly. Good work out there. Evac should be on you in less than five. Upon return, report to debrief immediately. Someone wants to talk to you. Overlord actual, out."

The end of the transmission was punctuated by the distant sound of helicopters growing louder. Everyone registered this, but looks of curiosity and confusion replaced relief.

"Someone wants to talk to us? Well ain't that cryptic?" Mal asked rhetorically. Zoe's frown deepened and Wash seemed like he too was going over the possibilities in his head. Jayne, however, was a different story. He finished slapping the dust from his ball cap and placed it back atop his head, then cracked his knuckles.

"I don't care. I want a shower."


End file.
